A Phantom FairyTale
by Sybl Angelkat
Summary: Christine is a lowly housemaid for her awful stepmother Carlotta and her awful stepsisters. When the mysterious Prince Erik hears her sing in the alley behind the Royal Opera, he feels something he's never felt before: love. POTO Cinderella style.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: For once, I didn't have a ton of things keeping me up. Maybe it was the late hour that made me write this, maybe it was the sleepiness, maybe it's the hopeless romantic in me. I kind of got tired of Eric always ending up the victim. Let's turn this around: what if, instead, Erik was the powerful, rich, and mysterious prince and Christine was the lowly maid (with the good voice) that found love? With her friends Squishie, Chase, and Meg, she embarks on a journey that most girls have dreamed of...

Chapter 1............Dreams

The morning sun was just rising. It was a hot crimson red, staining the sky in rich hues of pink, gold, red, and purple. Far above the sunrise, the sky was a deep aqua blue shade. Far up in the attic of a formidably sized mansion was a tiny run-down bed with a tattered, threadbare quilt. Within the bed, a figure stirred. The body moved only slightly; the mind was still entranced in the depths of a dream. The soft orange-red light shone upon the chocolate-colored curls that spilled over the pillow.

A small wheat-colored dog with fluffy long hair and big, dark eyes placed her front paws on the edge of the bed. A black cat appeared in the windowsill, his sleek body curving around the corners.

"Dreaming again," he sighed, "she's been doing it quite a bit lately."

The little dog moved towards the window towards the cat.

"Well, you can't blame her, Chase, she _is _turning three in dog years."

"Twenty-one...hmmm," the cat, Chase, pondered. He leapt from the windowsill to the headboard and looked down at the sleeping face.

"Well, Squishie, she has to get up or she'll get in trouble again. We don't want to risk her being flogged again."

Squishie tilted her head, raising one ear. She hated to wake her master, but she didn't want the stepmother hurting her again. She squirmed beneath the covers, tail wagging. She gave her master a cold wet doggy kiss on the cheek.

"Christine! It's morning, Christine! Wake up!"

Christine mumbled and rolled over, but Squishie didn't give up. Eventually, the one she called Christine opened her dark-chocolate eyes and stretched. The sun made her porcelain-smooth skin appear radiant despite the ratty old nightgown she wore.

"Oh, good! You're awake! Look! It's a wonderful morning!" Squishie said, looking out the window.

"Yes. It is. But it was a beautiful dream, too."

Christine was smiling, but she had a tint of sadness.

"Oh? What kind of a dream?" Chase lazily descended onto the bed. She scratched behind his ears and he purred pleasantly.

"A dream of love," Christine said, "I dreamed that an angel descended from Heaven and married me."

"Why does that sound so familiar?" Chase wondered, more to himself. Christine shook the covers out, startling him into moving to the rug.

"My father said he would send the angel of music down from Heaven when he passed away," Christine sighed, "and I hear his voice in my dreams."

"_Father once spoke of an angel..._

_I used to dream he'd appear..._

_now as I sing, I can sense him..._

_and I know he's here..._

_here in this room, he calls me softly,_

_somewhere inside, hiding..._

_somehow I know he's always with me..._

_him, the unseen genius..."_

"How long ago was it?" Squishie asked. She hadn't been around when this had happened. Neither had Chase; she had acquired them both as pets when she'd rescued them from the streets.

"A very long time ago when I was still a child," Christine explained, "I never knew my mother. My father raised me until I was around nine. We were both doing quite well here, just the two of us, but he loved me so much that he wanted me to have a mother as well. He chose Carlotta because she came from a good family and had two daughters; my stepsisters. Then, when father passed away, well...things went downhill, but I really can't complain. As long as I have God and the two of you, I have a good life. I do wish my angel would visit me more, though."

Leaving that thought in the air, Christine stepped behind the changing screen and tossed her nightgown aside. She pulled her dress over her head. It had once been a very nice dress, but the years of wear and tear had caused many worn spots and patches. She tied her hair back with a red ribbon and combed the curls out as best she could.

"Come with me," Christine told them. They followed her down the stairs. As they descended, the house appeared in much better shape.

"We have to get Cocoa first," Christine told them.

Squishie snorted.

"Aww, not Cocoa. She's no fun! She won't let me play with her or anything. All she does is sit around and whine!"

"I know," Christine laughed, "she does get on my nerves as well, but we're going to have to try and get along."

Cocoa slept on her own fancy little dog bed beside Carlotta's. The fluffy little white poodle was definitely a kill-joy at best. She snored even louder than Carlotta at times.

"Cocoa," Christine called.

The little dog reluctantly came. She held her nose high as if the world wasn't good enough for her.

_People I understand, but being a slave for a dumb little dog like this?_

Christine led them all down to the kitchen. She felt bad because she couldn't afford to feed Squishie and Chase anything more than table scraps when Cocoa always got two grilled pork chops for breakfast in a fancy crystal dish. Squishie and Chase shared their table scraps without complaint because they had always shared. While the three pets ate, Christine went outside and fed the farm animals. By the time she got back in, the call bells were ringing. She hurried up the stairs, the breakfast trays carefully balanced so that they weren't going to spill or get dropped.

Regina was the first room she came to. Regina was a spoiled brat and behaved like a child despite her age. She had light blonde hair and bright blue eyes and an impish little nose. She could charm anybody with those little-girl features with little to no effort. She wore only colors that flattered her appearance and could spend hours at a make-up table. Christine placed her tray across her lap and had everything just so-so to avoid the high-pitched shriek that meant all was not perfect. Luckily, Regina didn't shriek like a banshee this time. She merely squinted at Christine, the little freckles across the bridge of her nose blending together.

"You smell absolutely terrible! Been sleeping with the pigs again? And look at all those ashes on your dress! We ought to call you Cinderella."

Christine bit back a harsh reply and merely started out the door.

"Not so fast, Cindersoot! The Baron is going to take me riding today. I want my best baby-blue dress perfectly pressed and mended in the next hour."

Christine retrieved the dress and lay it over her shoulder. Regina watched her go with the sour expression of someone who had something nasty under her nose and it really wasn't becoming to her.

"Now I know why some animals eat their young," Chase commented, causing Squishie to chuckle.

Amanda's room was next. If Regina depended on her childish good-looks and her bubble-gum flavored voice to attract people, Amanda was more dependent on her other assets. The dresses that she wore all strained around the chest area and exposed plenty of skin. Where Regina preferred pastels and light, breezy fabrics, Amanda preferred darker, louder colors that drew attention and fabrics that clung to her voluptuous figure. They shared the same blonde hair, but Amanda's eyes were emerald green. They were the chilliest eyes that Christine had ever seen. Amanda's voice was dark like stained glass in a sharp contrast to Regina's and she was the most dangerous when she was quiet. Amanda used to scare Christine when they were growing up by threatening to stab her in her sleep.

"It's about time you got here," Amanda snapped. She had slept nude, bruises staining her neck from her latest make-out session. There wasn't a doubt in Christine's mind that Carlotta had no earthly idea how many bedtime visitors that she had. Without a word, Christine gave her the breakfast tray and waited for the inevitable demands that would follow.

"I want my red gown mended." Amanda began to eat as though she were starving. Christine picked up the red dress and notice that the seams were torn in several places. Most likely, Amanda would insist that those were "accidents". She shuffled it around so that the rips wouldn't show. Then, she took the last tray in to Carlotta.

Carlotta immediately began to shout in the bogus Italian accent that she insisted on using. Her limp strands of blonde hair fell around her shoulders. The rich red wig she would don later was sitting on the dresser.

"It's about time you came in! I just cannot get good help these days! What were you doing? Sleeping in again! And is it so much to ask that you keep your filthy ashes away from the rest of the house!? I just cannot find good help these days! You get your act together or I will toss you out into the streets and see how good you do then!"

Once the tirade was over, Carlotta sipped calmly at her tea.

"See that you get all the laundry, the dusting, the window-washing, and the regular chores done. And polish my jewelry now--I have a very important night tonight."

Carlotta, although a baroness, had a job. It wasn't as though she liked working for a living--she griped about it on a regular basis. No, Carlotta was a show-off and had a job where she could be seen the most: the Royal Opera House. It was rumored that the royal family loved music and operas (as well as parties), so the king's great grandfather had ordered an opera house be built. There was also rumor that the royal line had the greatest musical blood out of anyone else in the kingdom. It was a great honor for a family to work for the king's opera house. Carlotta was the lead vocalist, known in those times as a diva. Her daughters Amanda and Regina were both singers as well as dancers. They were only chorus girls, but they always got the second and third biggest parts. Christine had never actually seen an opera and had only gone to the opera house as a lowly maid attendant. She'd never been inside the Grand Theater, only in the dressing rooms, the corridor, and the outside servant's entrance in the filthy alley.

Once Regina's dress was all ironed out, Amanda's dress completely repaired with reinforced seams, and Carlotta's jewels polished to a glaring shine, Christine carried all the items with her to the opera house. In her other hand, she carried a picnic lunch that she intended to share with Squishie and Chase. The upcoming opera was _Hannibal_ and opening night was tonight. It meant that she would be here almost all day and wouldn't come home until the others did. Squishie and Chase trotted along on either side of her. From a distance, they could hear Carlotta's intense caterwauling from the stage. Chase's nose went up in the air despite his status as an alley cat.

"And they throw shoes at us saying we can't sing!" he commented.

"I can howl better than your stepmother! Who on earth's idea was it to hire her?" Squishie asked, shaking her head.

"They hired her because she has money," Christine sighed, "apparently, gold coins say a lot about a person."

"Well, they don't say enough!" Chase huffed.

The three of them approached the alley. Christine was careful to avoid the rotting trash and the stagnant puddles. They went into the corridor. Squishie and Chase tried to hide beneath a bench when one of the security guards walked by, but he grabbed them both by the scruffs of their necks.

"A mutt and a fleabag," he commented lazily as he opened the door, "out you go!"

Chase landed on his paws, but Squishie landed awkwardly on her side. She got up, whimpering slightly.

"And you...what are you doing here?" he asked disdainfully.

"I'm Carlotta's maid," Christine said, the title giving her a bitter taste in her mouth, "I've brought her things."

The guard watched her go into the dressing rooms one at a time and put the items in question down. Convinced, he left her alone. She ran back out to the alley to rejoin Chase and Squishie. Luckily, Squishie hadn't really been hurt although she'd landed in the mud. Christine cleaned her up as best she could with her apron.

"Oh, I hate that man! He's so mean to everyone," Christine muttered. The three of them cringed when they heard Carlotta hit a soured note.

"As much as she's practiced that song, you'd think she'd have it by now," Christine commented.

The sun was high in the sky now. As the three of them sat on the steps, Squishie pressed her nose against Christine's leg to get her attention.

"Why don't you sing it? No one's around but me and Chase."

Christine began to sing a few bars of the song. Unlike Carlotta's old, rusty, screeching voice, her pure, clear soprano rang out into the alley.

"_Think of me,_

_think of me fondly_

_when we've said goodbye...._

_remember me...once in a while..._

_please promise me you'll try..._

_when you find...that once again you long..._

_to take your heart back _

_and be free..._

_if you ever find a moment..._

_spare a thought for me...._

On this bright, cheerful day, Christine had forgotten her troubles in her musical moment. She forgot the whipping scars on her back. She forgot the pain of her father's death and the cruelty of her stepfamily. She knew only that music and songs gave her hope.

She was completely unaware of the hazel-golden eyes that watched her from above.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.................Prince Erik and the invitation.

The king had been worried about his son for quite some time. As far as princes go, Erik wasn't the regular beefcake sword-swinging hero that could charm a lady's heart with a single glance. In fact, despite the queen's constant fussing and making sure he ate regularly, Erik's build remained rather thin. His muscles were very lean, making him tall and slender. Most people thought him ill-tempered and moody. Erik despised balls and parties, preferring to stay in his tower room with his beloved organ and violin. He was actually rather socially awkward when it came to women, but he had a very good reason to be.

No one was really sure why it happened, but Erik was born with a disfigurement on the right side of his face. The skin was so thin there that it almost seemed transparent. There was a small sunken-in spot on his disfigured cheek and the skin was uneven and bumpy. There was also a sunken spot on his forehead that seemed a little frightening because the bones hadn't fused together properly there. Erik wore an ivory-colored mask over it because he didn't want people staring at it. Of course, he knew that people still stared anyway because of the mask, but at least they didn't think he was a monster. Unfortunately, he thought he was. Most of the single women in the kingdom wanted to marry him, but only because they would have money and power. He knew that their desires had very little to do with him except for using him as a pawn. The king and queen were getting anxious for grandchildren now that Erik was getting older and was of age for marriage. It seemed as though every time that Erik was in the room, his father would bring it up. Erik had started spending more and more time away from the castle as a consequence.

The faces of the maidens that threw themselves at him seemed to all blend together. They were pretty....and dull. Most of them had very little knowledge of music and none of them wanted to learn about it. They knew nothing of books or of adventure and they were all very boring to him.

The morning had started out like any other. He rose from his bed as his servant, Keith, opened the curtains.

"Good morning, your highness. A beautiful day for a ride, isn't it?"

A ride in the country actually sounded rather appealing to Erik's restless nature. Keith seemed almost able to read minds. Despite Keith being only a servant, he and Erik were almost as close as brothers. Erik took the clothes from him and stepped behind the changing screen. When they got to the stables, the horses were already waiting.

"Oh, there he goes again!" The queen hoisted her long skirts up and dashed down the stairs.

"Erik! Erik, wait! You haven't even had breakfast yet! Oh, Erik!"

She watched the behind of Caesar, Erik's horse, disappear into the distance and sighed.

"Someday, that boy is going to be the death of me," she sighed. Running a hand through her wavy black locks, she slowly made her way back to the castle just as the king came out.

"Where's that boy run off to today?" he asked, sounding slightly irritable.

The queen held up a note she'd retrieved from Erik's night table.

"He and Keith are going riding again. I swear, as much as they do, the two of _them _will turn into horses."

"He just doesn't want to grow up," the king sighed, "and he's going to have to sooner or later. I can't give him the crown if he doesn't have some support and a decent bloodline to pass on to."

"You can't blame him, Francis. I remember feeling the same way when I was his age. We're lucky that we fell in love _before_ our parents had us marry. Not all royal matches are so well suited."

The king nodded, but his frustration did not go away.

"We'll give him one last chance before we decide for him. We'll throw a ball in his honor next week--after all, his twenty-first birthday is coming up, and we'll invite every eligible maiden. He can see all the girls in the kingdom at once. Surely he'll find her then. Until that time, we won't say a word about it to him or he'll try to duck out of it again."

The king paused in his wandering thoughts.

"Hmm. I wonder if he remembers that opening night is tonight. Maybe a good opera will settle his cold feet."

........................................

The feeling of flying was absolutely phenomenal. As Caesar leapt into the air over the giant fallen log, Erik let go of the reins and spread his arms out. Caesar landed very smoothly and Erik was quite pleased with himself. No one could outride him.

"Very good leap, sir. Just make sure you don't fall off and bust your head in. I don't think my back could take the lashings," Keith teased, good-naturedly.

Erik smirked.

"You do realize there were plenty of times I could have had you whipped and I didn't say a word?"

"Worker's compensation," Keith shot back. The two men shared a laugh.

"Are they still going on about the marriage crap?" Keith asked as they slowed their horses to a walk and let them breathe.

"Of course. Father talks of nothing else," Erik said, clutching his forehead as if he had a headache.

"So, what's the big deal? It's a big castle, you know," Keith commented, "you could have her stay in a separate wing and she'd hardly ever see you. Besides, she'd be so busy spending the royal treasure that she wouldn't think about bothering you."

"That's the problem, Keith! I don't want a woman like that. I want one that actually gives a damn about me. I want someone to welcome me home after a long journey. I want someone to sit at my side when I play my organ. I want....someone who cares about what I care about. Women like that aren't easy to find and our kingdom's full of narcissistic gold diggers."

The horses paused to drink from the stream nearby. Keith pulled a loaf of bread out of the saddle bag and broke it in half. He passed one of the parts to Erik, who accepted it gratefully.

"Well, Erik, sometimes that's the way it is. I don't think it's possible to have it all. Servants have to give up their lives to serve their masters. The masters have to give up some privacy so that they have servants to work for them. Everyone in the kingdom has to pay taxes to keep the country running. Some people have love but no money. Some people have money but no love. Same for power."

"But my parents--" Erik started.

"Think about it, Erik. Things like that happening are very rare."

That's when Erik's temper came out.

"If I can't have what I want, then I simply won't marry! I'll run away if I have to, but I'll be damned if I have to be chained up by some ridiculous whore!"

And away Caesar went. Keith sighed. He hadn't meant to upset his master, but Erik couldn't keep his head in the clouds forever.

...........................

A couple of hours later, Erik was calmed down again. He and Keith went to the opera house to see how things were going. As usual, Carlotta and her daughters were on the stage with their gaudy costumes on. Erik suppressed a shudder of disgust when Amanda bent over and showed him much more than was necessary and Regina gave him the most sickening-sweet smile she could muster. Despite their attempts to get his attention, he walked past them as quickly as he could. He was more interested in speaking to the manager.

The manager wasn't in his office at the moment, so Erik sat down in one of the chairs to wait. It was then that he heard the most beautiful sound in the world.

"_Think of me,_

_think of me fondly_

_when we've said goodbye...._

_remember me...once in a while..._

_please promise me you'll try..._

_when you find...that once again you long..._

_to take your heart back _

_and be free..._

_if you ever find a moment..._

_spare a thought for me...._

He turned his head. Where was that coming from? Surely it wasn't one of the singers downstairs. None of them could hold a candle to this voice. Erik rose from his chair and peered down at the street from behind one of the plum-colored curtains. Down below, he could see a peasant girl, a wheat-colored dog, and a black cat. Unfortunately, the servant girl was wearing a bonnet and he couldn't see her face.

_That voice...beautiful....so much better than any of the opera house singers..._

Logic argued with him that servant girls were illiterate, uneducated, and probably bird-brained. His logic was losing rapidly. Just as he was about to open the window and call out to her, the manager came in. Erik was only paying half-attention to the manager's endless ramblings. When he finally made it down to the door, she was gone.

..............................

Christine had heard many different stories about the Phantom Prince, but she wasn't sure she believed any of them. She herself had never seen him. Squishie claimed to have seen him once, but she'd been so young that it was debatable who the man's identity really was. Chase said he could sneak into the castle with ease, but his great legendary tall-tales were yet to be proven.

When her stepmother and two sisters left the opera house to go get dinner and a bath before the opera started, Christine was dragged along with them. She cooked their dinner, washed their hair, laid their freshly cleaned costumes out on the bed, and retrieved everything they demanded. She did all of her chores with a detached air, for she couldn't help but think that something was going to be different about this day. As she was scrubbing the evening's dishes, there was a knock on the door. Sighing, she wiped her hands on her dirty apron and hurried to get it.

One of the king's men stood on the front steps. She recognized him by his uniform of blue and he held up a sealed envelope.

"For your master's household," he told her.

"Thank you."

He got in his carriage and left. Christine pondered the envelope for a moment. It was a rich cream-colored parchment with a skull-shaped seal. She never understood why the royal family favored skulls as their symbol. She debated whether or not to break the seal and try to read it, but she remembered (with embarrassment) her illiteracy. Of course she couldn't read it. Not only that, but it would upset her stepmother quite a bit. Sighing, she hurried up the stairs and knocked on her door.

"What?" the woman snapped.

"One of the king's men brought a letter, Ma'am."

She handed it to her. Regina and Amanda shoved each other out of the way trying to see it.

"Stop that bickering at once! I will read it."

She swiftly broke the seal.

"Next week, there is to be a ball in Prince Erik's honor for his twenty-first birthday. Every eligible maiden in the household is to attend."

"A ball?!" Regina and Amanda shrieked.

"That means I can go, too!" Christine said, thinking aloud.

Regina and Amanda both began to laugh.

"You? I can only imagine you at a ball," Regina chuckled, "nice to meet you, Prince Erik! Do you like my filthy, patched apron?"

"Why no, Prince Erik, I don't have a family fortune to bring to the marriage. Just a mangy cat and dog and some old cleaning rags!"

They shared more laughs at Christine's expense.

"Girls, girls! We can't disobey a direct order from the king."

Christine was surprised to hear that. She turned her head to look at her stepmother, who seemed to have something up her sleeve.

"Yes, you can go IF you finish all of your chores in time and find a suitable dress. I won't have you slacking on your work or embarrassing me."

Christine nodded. Inside, she was all excited.

"See to it that you finish cleaning up the kitchen."

Christine dashed down the stairs to tell Squishie and Chase.

"Mother, you can't be serious, letting her come with us!" Regina exclaimed.

"Don't worry. I only said _if_ she finishes all her work."

Amanda laughed huskily.

"Oh...._if_."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Christine was getting tired, but she was satisfied. All the floors were scrubbed and the house was sparkling clean from top to bottom. She couldn't remember ever having worked this hard. While she had a few minutes, she rummaged through the trunk that had been closed since her mother died.

"What's in there?" Squishie asked, placing her front paws on the trunk.

"My mother's dress," Christine answered, "she left it to me when she died."

The rusty lock gave way when she turned the key and she flipped it open. Christine lifted out a jewel purple dress. Chase looked at it with disdain.

"It's so old-fashioned."

Christine pulled the dress over the mannequin.

"It's old-fashioned, yes, but that doesn't mean it can't be modified. If I shorten the sleeves and get rid of this high collar, it will look wonderful. And some gold trim might make a difference as well."

She began to rummage around to find sewing gear, but the dreaded yell came from downstairs.

"CHRISTINE! GET DOWN HERE!"

Christine sighed in frustration.

"Oh, now what can they possibly want?"

She was gone for another hour. When she got back, she managed to quickly cut the sleeves and pin them into place before the next chore came. She had just finished working on the neckline when the clock struck nine.

"Goodness, that was close!" Christine panted. She had managed to squeeze in some preparation time for herself in between chores. Her hair was freshly washed as well as her skin. She didn't have any makeup, but Chase and Squishie assured her that it wasn't necessary. She decided to leave her hair down, the curly locks cascading down her shoulders.

"Christine, you look wonderful! The prince, hopefully, will see that you are just as beautiful on the inside," Chase told her.

"Can't we go?" Squishie asked.

"I'm sorry," Christine apologized, "animals aren't allowed in the palace. I suppose I'll just see you later."

She kissed them both on the tops of their heads and hurried downstairs.

"Wait! Wait for me!" she called.

Amanda and Regina abruptly stopped talking. Carlotta examined Christine with her nose in the air.

"Well, well," she commented, "I have to say, you clean up very nicely. Doesn't she, girls?"

"I don't think she's so great," Amanda commented, "she hasn't got enough of a bosom to fill that out. The prince might mistake you for a boy in a dress."

"Where in the Hell did you get this old thing? Dig it out of the garbage bin? Hmm."

Regina grabbed onto a ribbon and ripped it loose.

"Oops. Oh, darn! I was just trying to see it."

"And there's something wrong right here...oh, dear, look at this!"

The two of them started ripping Christine's dress apart. Christine shrieked and tried to get away from them, but she was outnumbered. Within seconds, the dress was torn to rags.

"Girls! We're going to be late. Let's go!" Carlotta said, opening the door.

Amanda and Regina left.

"Goodnight, Christine."

Carlotta closed the door.

Christine's eyes filled with tears. Squishie and Chase appeared on the stairs.

"Christine, what happened?" Squishie asked.

Christine began to cry. She ran outside to the garden and began to sob. She had come _so _close! All she wanted was just to be able to get out of this _house!_

"I'll never have a chance! I'll just be trapped here for the rest of my life!" she wailed.

"Surely you don't believe that..." a voice said.

"I do, though! Look at me! I'm just a servant!"

Suddenly, Christine sat up, realizing that someone else was there. Sitting beside her on the bench was a woman with large, dark eyes and golden hair. She wore a dress that looked as if it were spun from pure sunshine. Two large butterfly wings fanned out of her back and had a brilliant mosaic of colors Christine had never even seen before.

"Who--who are you?" Christine stuttered, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

"My name is Marguerite, but you may call me Meg for short. I saw what your stepsisters did to you and I came to help you."

"But...why?"

"It's my job. Now, then. We must get started. There isn't much time, you know. Let me see...would you happen to have a pumpkin around?"

Christine looked puzzled.

"A pumpkin? What do you want with a pumpkin?"

"Just trust me," Meg told her, "and I need your two animal friends, Squishie and Chase. I also need your horse, Prancer."

Christine went to the garden to retrieve a pumpkin.

"What do you want us for?" Chase asked.

"You will be escorting our dear Christine to the ball. You have the most important job, you know."

Meg drew out a sparkling wand from the sash of her dress and waved it. Chase and Squishie both transformed into two large horses with ornate harnesses.

"Something tells me I won't be able to hide under the bed anymore," Chase commented.

"How will I be able to chew bones with these teeth?" Squishie asked.

Christine returned with the pumpkin and the old horse, Prancer. Meg waved her wand and the pumpkin transformed into a beautiful carriage. The horse was transformed into a human driver.

"Now, then, dear, you must get going! The magic is only good until midnight!"

"What about the dress?"

Meg examined Christine's dress.

"Not exactly a fashion statement," she commented, making a face. She waved her wand again.

Christine's dress transformed. The tattered purple mess became a rich ruby color. It was a strapless dress with full skirts and gold trimming. In her entire life, she had never seen such a beautiful dress. Her hair was half-up, half-down with a jeweled clip that matched the dress.

"Wow!"

Christine walked over to Squishie and Chase.

"Have you ever seen a prettier dress? And look! Glass slippers!"

She held up a foot. The transparent red ballet-flat style glass shoe glittered in the dim light.

"You look wonderful," Meg commented, "now, go and have fun!"

Christine got into the carriage.

"Thank you so much, Meg!" she called.

Meg waved goodbye and Christine was on her own. Squishie and Chase raced towards the castle at break-neck speed.

Christine couldn't help but be excited. Her stomach was quivering from the newness of the situation and she felt as though she had butterflies in there. The ride was fairly short, but it seemed to take forever. Prancer helped her out of the carriage once they got to the castle.

_Well, this is it,_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Erik stood in front of the mirror and looked unhappily at his reflection. Keith was adjusting his jacket.

"I'm so tired of my father pressing this marriage issue," Erik sighed, "but at least it's only for one night."

"You never know, sir," Keith said optimistically, "this could be it for you."

"Let us hope so, Keith. Otherwise, I might just run away."

Keith left and Erik stood at the top of the stairs, waiting to be announced. The music went quiet for a moment. The girls all started to giggle stupidly.

_Heaven help me,_ Erik thought with a sigh.

One by one, the girls were presented to him. He bowed politely, but didn't dance with any of them. They all looked alike and they began to blend together.

Erik just happened to glance up at the door and was thinking about dashing through it when a young woman walked in. She seemed quite alone and out of place there. But something was different about her....

Without thinking, Erik pushed through the estrogen ocean that had surrounded him and walked towards her. A wave of whispers rippled through the room, but he was past hearing them.

Christine looked up at him.

"Oh...hello..."

She seemed surprised.

"Are you enjoying the ball?"

"Well...actually, I just got here."

"Would you like me to show you around?"

He took Christine's hand and steered her away from the crowds. Christine had not ever paid much attention to the gossip, nor had ever seen Erik, so she naturally did not recognize him as the prince.

Erik was fascinated by this. She didn't giggle stupidly or faint the way most women did. Instead, she looked into his eyes and seemed more genuine.

"These are the gardens," Erik said, gesturing to them, "it's possible to get lost down here."

"I wouldn't mind being lost in a place like this," Christine said, gazing at the breath-taking beauty in front of her, "it's amazing."

Erik fearlessly plucked one of the roses from the bush and used a small pocket knife to skin off the thorns. He tucked the strand into Christine's hair. The petals matched flawlessly with her dress. A song began to play that Erik particularly liked.

"Shall we dance?"

He led her onto the dance floor and the lights began to dim. It was slow and gentle. Out of instinct, Erik began to sing. It came so naturally to him that he didn't realize he was doing it half of the time.

_"Never knew I could feel like this..._

_like I've never seen the sky before..._

_want to vanish inside your kiss..._

_every day I'll love more and more..._

_listen to my heart, can you hear it sings?_

_Telling me to give you everything..._

_Seasons may change...winter to spring..._

_but I'll love you..._

_until the end of time..."_

His mother and father had often shared the secret of their love. Despite the king's reluctance to plant any sort of lofty romantic notions into his son's head, he had disclosed one thing. He knew he was in love with Erik's mother/the queen when he touched her hand. Something about this woman made his very blood resonate with music.

Christine's own mouth opened, something magical and powerful being released inside her own soul. She had heard this song somewhere before, but it never did strike her so powerfully as now.

_"Suddenly the world_

_seems such a perfect place_

_suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace..._

_suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste,_

_it all revolves around you..."_

An excitement he'd never felt before bubbled up inside Erik's stomach. Any second, they were going to find out. This one definitely had potential. They sang together:

_"And there's no mountain too high..._

_no river too wide..._

_sing out this song and I'll be there by your side..._

_storm clouds may gather..._

_stars may collide_

_but I love you until the end of time..._

_Come what may...._

_come what may..._

_I will love you until my dying day...._

The other women stared, open-mouthed. Some of them began to cry for their lost hope. Others began to flush with anger and jealousy.

"Who the Hell is that?" Regina snarled.

"I wonder how many guards she had to sleep with to get in here," Amanda commented.

"She seems familiar...but I can't say I recognize her," Carlotta said, raising a finger to her lips in thought.

"No matter. A pretty voice and a pretty face doesn't necessarily guarantee anything."

_"Come what may...._

_come what may..._

_I will love you...._

_until my dying day..."_

The song ended and applause thundered through the room. Christina smiled shyly. A couple more songs played with much livelier tunes. It was a challenge to keep up with them and she began to perspire a bit. She was somewhat startled when her stomach rumbled.

"Could I interest you in something to eat? Our caterers were up half the night preparing for this ball," Erik commented.

She was more than happy to go with him. Crystal plates, bowls, and cups sparkled alongside genuine silver utensils that were polished perfectly. The food itself was almost too beautiful to eat. She couldn't help but sample a small bit of everything. When she'd had her fill, she dabbed at her lips with her napkin. Unlike most men, this masked stranger did not comment on her appetite. He seemed rather hungry himself. After they finished drinking the warm tea, they got up from the table and went outside for some fresh air. This time, they went a small distance away from the castle.

"My room is up there," Erik commented, "my mother chose that room specifically because of the balcony before she knew which gender I would be. Either way, it reminded her of a story."

He said that to test Christine.

"Oh! You mean Romeo and Juliette, right? It's one of my favorites! I never got a chance to go to school, but my father used to read to me all the time when he was alive. He promised me he'd teach me eventually, but he passed away before he could."

Erik nodded in understanding. That happened sometimes. But, thankfully, he knew that illiteracy didn't always equate with ignorance.

"My parents think I'm too involved with such fairy-tales. They think I've always got my head up in the clouds."

"There's nothing wrong with having dreams," Christine commented, "I used to dream of being a great knight when I grew up. Everyone told me that playing with the boys and pretending to joust wasn't ladylike at all. I didn't care. I wanted to ride on a dragon's back."

Things were sounding more promising by the moment.

"You didn't dream of becoming a princess and marrying wealthy?" Erik asked.

"Not really. Being a princess would be nice, I suppose, but not if you're locked in the castle all day. I always thought it would be a little bit boring. You always hear 'they lived happily ever after' but never what happens after that. It would be nice to have some adventure."

The two of them looked up at the sky just in time to see a shooting star.

"It's beautiful out here," Christine commented, "I suppose-"

Suddenly, the clock began to chime. Dread filled Christine's stomach.

"Oh, my! I've completely forgotten what time it is!" she exclaimed.

"The ball doesn't end until much later," Erik commented, "you're more than welcome to stay."

"Oh, I wish I could, but I can't! I'm so sorry!"

Christine began to run across the gardens towards the door.

"Wait! I don't even know your name!" Erik yelled, chasing after her.

Christine ran down the stairs. The carriage was already waiting for her. On the way down, she tripped and one of her glass slippers went flying. She hesitated for a second, wondering if she could go and get it. But it was no use. She knew she had to hurry because the magic was already wearing thin. Squishie's fur was already changing from white to tan. Chase's horse tail was rapidly becoming a cat tail. She threw herself into the carriage and they took off.

"Stop that carriage!" Keith yelled to the guards.

They chased her all the way out into the countryside, but Christine and her friends managed to pull ahead at the last second. She grabbed Squishie and Chase and ran into the yard, Prancer, following her right behind. The guards' horses trampled the pumpkin, leaving a mess of pulp and sparkles.

"It's a shame it's over," Chase commented, whiskers drooping.

Christine looked down to see the glass shoe still on her right foot.

"Thank you! For everything!" she called, hoping Meg would hear her.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Life kind of has a habit of stealing me away from my projects, especially since graduation is looming close by. I hope you guys don't give up on me.

"What do you mean you can't find her?" Erik roared, quivering with anger.

"We're doing the best we can, sir," Keith told him, "we sent the guards after the carriage, but it vanished without a trace. The only thing we have left of this girl is the shoe she left behind."

Erik examined the sparkling glass shoe.

"Yes…this shoe…it looks to be custom-made. Surely there are few girls in this kingdom that would fit them comfortably…"

"Oh, sir, please tell me you aren't thinking of—" Keith trailed off as the anger vanished from Erik's face.

"Oh, yes, Keith. What happened in there was nothing short of a miracle. And I am not about to let it slip through my fingers."

Keith tried to smile, but it came out crooked.

"All right, Keith. You have a shot at being my best man and you know what I need you to do. For God's sakes, Keith…she's the one. I need your help more now than I ever have."

"I won't let you down, sir."

Keith bowed respectfully and Erik handed him Christine's shoe. He watched his best friend walk down the hallway, then closed the door. His organ seemed to be beckoning to him, calling him to song. Erik sat down on the small bench and took up his quill pen and inkpot. The notes were already flooding his mind…it would be his wedding present to the girl. Never had his pen moved so swiftly, so passionately! He hoped that she would appreciate it as much as he did. Phrase by phrase, he would write something, then test it out on the organ. By morning, the simple notes had evolved into elaborate chords and a rich melody poured into the room with the rising sun.

The queen paused outside his door, listening intently, her eyes brimming with joyful tears. The king, still in his pajamas, emerged from his room, yawning and stretching.

"Mary, what's all this?" he asked, puzzled.

Queen Mary smiled warmly.

"Our son…he's in love!" she exclaimed.

"How do you know?" he asked, puzzled.

"Come here, Francis. Listen to his music. You can _feel_ it."

The king pressed his ear to the door and bit back a triumphant laugh.

"That's my boy! I knew it! I knew he'd charm the skirts off one of those ladies!"

Without knocking, he burst through the door and hugged Erik from behind. Then, somewhat embarrassed by his sudden show of emotion, he adjusted Erik's mask (which had gone askew).

"So, where is she?" the king asked.

Erik stood to take a stretch break. It was obvious he'd been awake all night; his eyes were red and puffy, but his smile was victorious.

"Keith has gone to collect her," Erik said, "she should be here by lunchtime."

"Wonderful! We have many, many things to do! There's the guest list and the preacher, and the…" Francis was still talking as he dashed down the hall.

"Why do I have the feeling you've left something out?" the queen asked, giving Erik the "Mother Knows" look.

"All right," Erik sighed, still smiling, "you caught me. I never got the girl's name. She ran off in such a hurry and Keith went to find her. All that she left behind was a glass shoe."

"Oh my…" the queen was torn between worry and chuckling.

"I didn't have the heart to tell him…he's happy for once," Erik laughed.

"Well, we'll keep this our little secret, all right? Now, why don't you have some breakfast and then maybe take a nap? Being up all night isn't good for you."

"All right. But you will send someone the moment she arrives, won't you?" Erik asked earnestly.

"You have my word. Now, come on! There's a cheese omelet in the kitchen with your name on it."

They went downstairs together, leaving the finished musical score on the organ.

"How much longer do we have to keep this up?" asked the coach driver.

"Until we find that girl," Keith responded, his eyes also bloodshot. He leaned wearily against the seat, cradling the shoe against his chest.

They had been at it all night. Keith had not given up on his promise of loyalty despite its hardships.

"Well, now, this looks promising," he commented as they approached Carlotta's manor, "surely there are plenty of young ladies here."

"That's what you said about the convent," the footman teased.

"You, hush! This is Prince Erik's life we're talking about. Let's go."

Despite his exhaustion, Keith strode energetically up the path.

"What's the matter with that girl today?! She's a walking disaster!" Amanda snarled as Christine swept up the remains of a vase she'd bumped into and knocked over.

"There does seem to be something different about her," Regina commented.

Suddenly, the snap of recognition showed in her small blue eyes.

"She's in love! I know that look!"

"But who in the world would fall in love with that homely thing?" Amanda asked.

"Probably just another servant," Regina sneered, "I'll bet he's old and ugly and has three teeth!"

Carlotta walked in as the girls were snickering.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

"Christine seems to be in love," Amanda snorted.

"In love? When does she have time to be in love?" Carlotta wondered.

Christine was humming away as she prepared breakfast. Carlotta's eyes narrowed. That tune sounded familiar…

"Oh my God, no! It can't be!" Regina's jaw dropped.

"The prince," Carlotta hissed, "that little trollop knows the prince! But how? How did she pull it off…."

Right about then, there was a knock at the door.

"Girls, make sure she stays in the kitchen. Keep her out of sight, you hear?"

Carlotta hoisted her lavish skirts and ran for the door. She paused just before answering it to catch her breath and smooth her dress. Regina and Amanda stayed standing in the doorway of the kitchen while an oblivious Christine continued to work.

"Good day to you, Madame," Keith bowed respectfully.

"What can I do for you, my good man?" Carlotta asked, noticing the king's seal on his clothing.

"I trust you enjoyed the ball last night?"

"It was lovely, sir. My compliments to the king."

"Then you were there to see the prince dance with that lovely young lady, correct?"

"Yes, I saw…does that pertain to your visit?"

"It does. We're not certain of the identity of that young woman and we've searched all night for her. All we have is this beautiful shoe."

He held up the slipper and it sparkled brilliantly in the morning light.

"That's quite a shoe," Carlotta sneered.

"Yes. I was wondering if I might speak to your daughters about it. Maybe one of them will recognize it."

"GIRLS!" Carlotta roared.

Regina and Amanda stampeded into the front entrance, shoving at each other to get in first.

"Does either of you young ladies recognize this?"

They looked at each other, stunned.

"If I'm not mistaken, one of you was wearing this when you saw the prince last night," Carlotta hinted.

"OH! It's mine, of course," Regina laughed nervously, "only someone with very delicate feet could wear that."

"Don't you mean it's mine?" Amanda snapped.

"I know a way to settle this," Keith said easily, pointing to a nearby bench. Both girls plopped down on it.

"I'll be back in a moment," Carlotta said. She went back to the kitchen and quietly closed the door while Christine's back was turned. She locked the door and tucked the key into her dress pocket.

She wasn't aware of the pair of eyes that watched from the dark corner.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Yes, I know, it took me long enough! My latest "Hunchback of Notre Dame" craze kind of eclipsed all my other obsessions for a while. Thank goodness my other muses showed up today!

Cocoa, the poodle that everybody detested, skittered to the door. As much as she disliked Christine, Squishie, and Chance, she had never despised anybody as much as she despised Carlotta. She was tired of being treated like a dress-up toy. Just once, she wanted to be treated like a regular dog. Upon hearing what the humans were saying, it occurred to her that this was her one last chance.

"Mongrels!" she hissed under the door. To the others, it sounded like a low growl. Cocoa had a very heavy French accent, as most true French poodles do.

"Cocoa? What do you want?" Chance asked.

"The mistress has locked the door," Cocoa informed him, "I will get the key for you on one condition: that you take me with you when you leave this place."

"You can talk?" Squishie asked, stunned.

"Of course I can talk! Ignorant peasants!" Cocoa sniffed.

"Why didn't you talk to us before?"

"It was beneath my dignity, all right? This is no time for stupid questions! Will you take me or not?"

"Fine, we'll make sure you come. _Hurry_!"

Christine, who was baking the bread, had not even noticed that the door was locked. Squishie scratched at her leg.

"Christine! They locked the door, Christine!"

Christine glanced down at her.

"Why would they do that?"

"It's the man from the palace! He has one of your red shoes, Christine! He's trying it on your sisters as we speak! Cocoa's trying to get the key, but she wants us to take her when we leave…if we leave."

"All right…" Christine was a little confused, but she'd sort it out later. Getting a kitchen knife, she stuck it in the keyhole and attempted to spring the latch. Cocoa might not be able to get the key all by herself.

Cocoa scratched at her mistress's leg and whined. Carlotta took the bait and picked her up. She wasn't able to fit her nose into Carlotta's pocket, so she had to work the key into an upright position with her tongue. _That_ was hard.

_This had better be worth it,_ the little dog thought.

Regina's foot was too long. Try as she might, she could not get the shoe to fit. Her foot arched painfully and she couldn't walk. The shoe came loose and Keith snatched it out of midair to keep it from being broken. Cocoa gently tugged the key out of Carlotta's pocket and dropped it onto the rug. Thankfully, Carlotta was forced to set her poodle down so that she could gripe at Keith properly.

"You clumsy oaf! Are you _trying_ to injure her?"

Cocoa seized her chance and snatched up the key. She raced down the hallway, faster than she'd ever ran before and dropped the key next to door. Using her paw, she slid it underneath.

Christine had given up on the knife and she heard Amanda's grunting. She was going to be too late! Shoving the key into the lock, Christine burst out of the door.

Amanda's foot was too wide. The slipper squeezed her foot so tightly that it had red marks around the shoe opening. Of course, Amanda was too nervous and her feet had begun to sweat. The slipper fell to the floor with a crash just as Christine had retrieved the other one from upstairs.

_"Hurry!"_ Cocoa chided her.

Tucking the slipper safely under her arm, Christine hopped on the banister and went zinging down it. She landed awkwardly, but the slipper was still intact.

"Now we'll never know who it was," Keith said sadly, looking at the ruins of the red glass.

"Oh, yes we will," Christine announced, slipping the other one on her foot.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry for the long wait on updates. Stuff happened and it smushed out the creativity for a while. I hope it will be worth the wait.

Carlotta's jaw dropped in shock. Christine couldn't help but smile—how many times had she called Christine a "little toad"? Carlotta looked very much like a big fat bullfrog at the moment.

Keith's smile was one of quiet serenity.

"This way, my future queen. Is there anything here that you would like to take with you?"

Christine thought about her room in the attic, her ragged clothes. Chance and Squishie raced down the stairs. Squishie's tail was wagging so hard that it looked like a wheat-colored blur. Cocoa trotted after them, her snooty little nose in the air as usual. They all came to stand beside Christine.

"Only my family," she answered.

Just when Amanda, Regina, and Carlotta started forward, Christine held a hand up.

"Not _you_…my real family," she said coolly, "but I do hope you come and visit once in a while. Goodbye, stepmother."

As Keith helped Christine into the carriage, they heard a blood-curdling scream come from the house. Cocoa had already settled herself into one of the cushions and merely sneered at the sound.

"Will she be all right?" Keith wondered out loud.

"I'm sure she will," Christine replied.

The wheels began to turn. Christine felt the butterflies shooting cannons in her gut and tried not to dwell on them. The morning was crisp and clear and the town was just starting to wake up. She looked at the sky, the trees, the buildings, and wondered why she hadn't taken the time to appreciate them all before.

"Prince Erik will be very pleased," Keith said gratefully, "he was in a very foul mood this morning…don't worry, dear, it's only because he missed you."

As they approached the castle, Christine could hear violent and stormy sounds. It wasn't until they were at the gate that she realized it was organ music. She gulped back the nervousness.

"He is composing," Keith explained.

"It sounds so…sinister," she shuddered. She could actually feel the anger pulsing through the music like a thundering dark heart.

"First things first, my dear, let's get you settled in. Mrs. Giry, our head of household, will see that you have everything you need."

Though he never said it directly, Christine understood the message: she wore a raggedy limp dress, one regular shoe and one glass shoe, and her hair was probably as tangled as a bird's nest. Yes…she wanted to look presentable for the prince. As they walked through the massive hallways, she felt more and more out of place. Afraid of being lost, the three animals huddled in around her feet. Cocoa seemed perfectly at home and walked slightly in front of Christine. Squishie and Chance needed a good brushing and a bath…she hoped that Prince Erik was an animal lover (or at least an animal tolerator).

"You found her?"

This came from a tall, thin gray-haired woman in a simple black dress. Christine guessed that she must have been a beauty in her youth.

"Yes…would you do the honors of helping this young lady settle in? I must go and inform Prince Erik at once of her arrival."

"Of course. This way, Miss."

Christine reluctantly followed her.

The room was very large. A giant four-poster bed dominated at least a quarter of it. The décor consisted of the signature red, gold, and black of the royal family. The two windows had been opened wide to let in the clean morning air and the sheer curtains floated daintily on the breeze. A bouquet of fresh flowers (red and yellow roses) stood in an ornate glass vase on the polished vanity table. There was also an adjoining bathroom with the largest and most beautiful tub that Christine had ever seen.

"We will have gowns made for you, but you will have to make do with one of the Queen's dresses for now," Mrs. Giry informed her, "you will find some to choose from in the wardrobe. There are already towels and soaps in the bathroom. Will you be needing anything before breakfast is ready?"

"Some tea," Christine replied hesitantly. She hoped it would calm her nerves, but she felt strange asking another person to get her something.

"I will bring it right up," Mrs. Giry said, already halfway out the door.

Christine inched towards the tub and turned on the tap. Near one side of the tub was a set of shelves with numerous glass bottles. After uncorking several, she inhaled deeply. She chose a lavender one.

Before she undressed and got into the tub, she bathed Squishie first. Squishie wasn't fond of water or baths, but she tolerated it for Christine's sake. After Christine dried her off, Squishie ran to the rug and flopped over on it. Everyone chuckled as she rubbed around and tried to get the dampness out of her fur.

"How did you stand this every day?" she asked Cocoa, who seemed particularly amused.

"Ready, Chance?" Christine asked.

"Cats don't need baths," he said firmly, "we can bathe ourselves."

Christine shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

There was a knock on the door.

"Your tea, Your Highness," Mrs. Giry said, producing a beautiful china cup.

"Thank you."

Christine sipped at it. The sweetness of honey and chamomile warmed her insides and steadied her churning stomach. After Mrs. Giry had left, she stripped off her ragged dress and sank into the tub up to her neck.

While Christine was enjoying her first uninterrupted bath in history, a proud Keith swaggered confidently up the stairs. The loud organ music didn't phase him in the least—he was used to Erik's mood swings.

"What do you want?" Erik snapped, never ceasing in his passionate, dark chords.

"We found her, sir."

The quiet was abrupt after all the tumultuous racket.

"Found…whom exactly?"

"Her…the girl! The one you sent me out to search for! She's here, Erik."

"I don't see her," Erik said acidly.

"For now, she is in one of the East Wing rooms. She wished to freshen up before she sees you again. Her circumstances are most unusual."

"Circumstances?"

"Yes, sir. She is a servant. That is why she was so difficult to find…and I suspect why she ran off yesterday. She was afraid you'd be disappointed."

Erik thought that one over. On one hand, the courtiers would be ruthless with her…he wasn't sure he wanted to put her in that position. On the other hand, he wasn't about to let her go over a silly thing like that. She _inspired_ him. She was his Angel…

"Only one thing would disappoint me, Keith. That would be if she ran away again."

Keith smiled warmly.

"I suppose I will go and get ready for dinner, then. Take the rest of the night off—you've earned it."

"Yes sir."

Keith bowed humbly and walked off to enjoy his newly found leisure time. Erik settled down on his organ bench again. The hours of catharsis had left him drained and weary, but he was content for now. The monster inside of him was satisfied.

There was a knock on the door. Queen Mary came in, her soft lavender skirts swishing about her legs.

"It's awfully quiet in here," she said gently, "have you finished your song?"

Erik glanced at the sheet music that was filling the small shelf.

"I believe so," he said.

"You know, you've grown so much in such a short time…I realize how quickly time is slipping through our fingers," Mary sighed, "I haven't had a chance to talk with you before."

She sat beside him on the bench.

"As you know, your father and I aren't going to be around forever and it will be your job to take over as king of this wonderful land. I know you thought we were hard on you, but we wanted you to be prepared for that. Being royalty can get quite…lonely…at times. That's why we're so happy that you found Christine."

Not sure where she was going with this, Erik squirmed uncomfortably.

"Well…anyway…there will be times that you don't always agree or see eye-to-eye and you won't get along a hundred percent of the time. The key is to remember that it's normal…don't assume you'll never fight. The important thing is how you deal with it and overcome it. Talking about it will get you much farther than icy silences."

Erik cleared his throat.

"All right, then, Mother. Is it time for dinner yet?"

"Yes. I'll let you get ready for it."

He sensed that she'd been feeling as awkward as he was. Rising from the organ bench, he decided to go and get cleaned up. After being awake all night, he was feeling decidedly disheveled.


	8. Chapter 8

It had surprised Christine that there were so many gowns to choose from. She was too skinny for most of them, but there was a rose-colored one that was only the slightest bit too big. Squishie and Chase barked and meowed their appreciation after she'd finished lacing it up. The white trim contrasted with the satiny pink perfectly and gave her cheeks a little bit of color. Deciding to leave her hair down, she stepped into the white satin slippers. Her callused feet felt rough and strange in them and she worried about her sandpapery soles tearing up the lining. As she examined herself in the mirror one last time, she tried to smile, but the worry didn't leave her eyes. What was it her father had said?

_Those who love you for your heart are worth keeping around, but those who scorn you for your looks are irrelevant. _

"Dinner is served," Mrs. Giry announced.

Christine followed her downstairs. Squishie and Chase quickly followed after her.

"The dog and cat will eat in the kitchen," Mrs. Giry said, looking pointedly at them. The two animals waited outside the door until one of the servants guided them to their own corner. Neither animal could remember when they'd been allowed their own portions of fresh food instead of table scraps. They couldn't see Christine, however.

Christine watched them go and hoped they'd be all right. She had never felt so alone in a singular moment.

"Oh my…you look lovely."

She turned to see Queen Mary standing there. Erik was coming in right behind her when he stopped in his tracks. King Francis appeared next.

Erik wasn't sure what to say, so he offered her his arm instead. His heart was threatening to pound right out of his chest. She cautiously took hold of it and they walked side-by-side the rest of the way.

Though it was still barely afternoon, a celebratory feast filled the table. There had been no breakfast—everyone had forgotten about it. They all could have cared less what actual meal-time it was so long as Erik was happy.

"No, no," Erik said when one of the servants moved to fill his plate for him, "ladies first."

He gestured to Christine, who blushed. There were so many things to choose from that she didn't know where to start. Little by little, she sampled a tiny bit of everything. There was a tender beef roast that practically melted in her mouth. There were fluffy mashed potatoes that rivaled the fluffiness of the clouds in the sky and a velvety brown gravy to go with them. There were freshly steamed vegetables from the royal gardens with a rich cheese sauce that was (rumor had it) the cook's specialty. There were sweet cinnamon apples that felt good going down and warmed her from the inside out. The bread was by far the best she'd ever eaten. By the time they were finished, she was very full and starting to feel sleepy.

Everyone must have been as hungry as she was, for the conversation was scant. The only sounds were the clinking of utensils against plates and the occasional wet sound of a glass being refilled. Once they were done, the post-meal coffee was brought out in plastic mugs with lids. Christine had seen nobility drink from these things, but she herself had never even touched one. Cautiously, she took a sip.

_Maybe if my sisters had drank their wine out of these, I wouldn't have to scrub the stains out of their dresses,_ she thought.

The king and queen looked pointedly from Christine to Erik and back again. She knew it was some kind of wordless communication, but she hadn't been around them long enough to interpret it.

Erik awkwardly rose from the table.

"Would you like to see the rest of the castle?" he asked.

"Of course, Your Highness," she said respectfully.

The awkwardness intensified for a fraction of a second.

"Erik," he corrected her, "just call me 'Erik'."

"Erik," she repeated.

The king and queen watched him lead her out of the dining room.

"That boy doesn't have the slightest idea what he's doing," Francis remarked with a scoff.

"Better to be shy than a rogue," Mary reminded him gently, "we've been very fortunate that our Erik hasn't caused a scandal."

"Yes, but their marriage will certainly be a scandal," he answered.

"It didn't make a difference to us," she reminded him.

They grinned at each other, their nostalgic secret always close to their hearts. She saw, for a moment, not the regal king that sat at her side, but the handsome roguish squire that had fallen in love with her when she was still the princess.

…..

Before they lost the light, Erik took her through the gardens, the stables, the carriage house, and along the lake shore. Then, as the sun began to sink lower in the west, they started on the inside of the castle. The drawing room was Christine's favorite so far—it was light, airy, and open. The music room was right next to it and had all varieties of instruments. Christine's heart ached when she saw a perfect violin resting in a glass case mounted on the wall. She went straight over to it and pressed her hands against the glass.

"I wish my father were alive to see this room," she commented, "he could have spent the rest of his life up here with all these instruments and thought it was heaven on earth."

"Who was your father?" Erik asked.

"Gustave Dae," she answered.

Erik thought for a moment.

"I remember him," he commented, "he played his own concert in the royal theater when I was just a small boy. I wanted to be just like him when I got older. That violin, actually, was from that concert. It was very old and well-used; my father told him he could trade that violin for any of the ones here. Then, we had it restored and re-strung after his death."

He unlocked the glass case and lay the violin in her hands. It had been many years since she'd played, but one never forgets…She drew the bow across the strings and the notes echoed through room.

"Since it belonged to your father, I want you to have it," he told her.

She paused.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. We can play together…which leads me to the last stop on our tour."

The dark circular tower made her uneasy, but Erik was completely at home in the shadowy place. Even so, he drew curtains back to let some light in for her. She was too busy looking around to say anything.

The organ filled at least half of the room with its complicated mechanisms and pipes. Sheet music littered the tops of the tables and the floor. Several stubby candles that had nearly burned out completely were sitting at the top of the organ. It contrasted sharply with every other room in the castle. She knew he rarely allowed anyone up here and suddenly felt very privileged.

"This is _my_ music room," he said, gesturing to the organ, "this is where I write all of my songs. This is my sanctuary when I need to get away from the world. And you, Christine, are the only one that I give permission to enter it. Can you read music?"

"Yes…Erik," she caught herself before she used his title again, "my father taught me when I was very young."

He cleared some sheet music off of the little bench and placed another stack there. Already, she could see it was a slow, lilting tune. Cautiously, she drew her bow across the violin strings again and played quietly at first—she didn't want to offend him by hitting a wrong note. Then, as she played, her confidence began to grow. She vaguely recognized the tune from the ball.

"You wrote this song?" she asked when she finally realized it.

"Of course I wrote it. It was our ball, wasn't it? For generations, it was our tradition to write our own music for our own parties."

"Wonderful," she remarked, "I've always heard that the royal balls were legendary. I suppose now I know why."

His amber eyes took on a very soft tone. He gestured for her to play again, and then his fingers began to dance across the organ keys. The melodies entwined beautifully. Keith pressed his ear to the door and grinned. He only hoped and prayed that Christine would not easily be swayed by his temper.

The sun had begun to set and the beautiful colors poured into the room across them. The peace on Erik's face comforted her, but she could not help but wonder what it was that he held back. There was still the lingering feeling of a storm being on the horizon though she didn't yet have evidence of what gave her that feeling.


	9. Chapter 9

Nighttime came all too soon. Christine stood before the bathroom mirror in her soft white nightgown, braiding her hair to keep it out of her face. Chase and Squishie were already on the enormous four-poster bed. It was so big that four or five people could have fit in it comfortably. She yawned and slid between the covers. There were two switches for the lights—one by the door and one by the bed. As she said her prayers, she thanked God for all His miracles and for the sudden blessings on their lives.

Unfortunately, not everyone was sleeping peacefully that night. Four hooded figures stood on the drawbridge in the shadows. The castle guards couldn't see them.

"Now…it's simple," the simpering heavily accented voice said, "we will distract the guards and you go inside. Make your way to the girl's room. We'll cause a little further commotion and the prince will come running to save his bride only to get a nasty little surprise. Then he'll think twice about marrying that little impostor. You'll get your gold after the deed is done."

"And if I am caught?" the man's voice asked.

"We will find a way to free you."

"All right…but that had better be a _lot_ of gold! I'm really risking my neck for you three ladies!"

"Now…get behind the hedge!"

The man was small-framed and dressed from head to toe in black. He was a thief that had been hired off the street. He was capable of blending into the walls if he had to. This would be the easiest purse he'd ever obtained—he wouldn't even need to cut the strings.

A loud clatter jerked the half-asleep guards awake as dummy suits of armor were pushed over. They ran towards the noise and the thief slipped inside. The royal guard dogs were growling, but they were still chained. They couldn't catch him. He hurried up the stairs to the guests' quarters where the future princess was being kept until the wedding. On the way in, he knocked things over and caused a general ruckus. Upon seeing the light come in from what he assumed to be the prince's room in the next hallway, he darted into the princess's room. He had been practicing to time this right—now was the true test of his skills. He stripped down to his underthings and threw himself into the bed. Startled, Squishie and Chase went tumbling to the floor. The door opened with a bang and the light switched on.

"Christine? Are you all right?" Erik asked, alarmed. The thief sat up first, yawning as though he'd been fast asleep. A confused Christine woke up next.

"And who is your guest?" Erik snapped, striding across the room. He seized the man by the throat and yanked him from the bed. Christine's sleepy gaze focused on him, then Erik.

"That's what I was wondering…I've never seen him before," Christine said uneasily, realizing how dire the situation looked.

"I wasn't good enough for you then? I took you in though you were a stranger. I took you in though you were a common servant. I trusted you! It's your first night in the castle and you didn't think your bed was warm enough, did you!"

_Oh dear…_ Christine thought.

"Your Majesty, this man is an invader," Chase said, coming out from under the bed, "Squishie and I have been with Christine every night and we can both assure you that she does not know him. She's not the kind of person who would do that. In fact, I think I smell traces of her awful stepmother and stepsisters."

"Of course you would stick up for her—you are her pets!" Erik snapped.

"We're telling the truth, Your Majesty! This man came here tonight with the intention to trick you! We were all completely alone until a few seconds ago!"

Erik's eyes burned amber, a sure sign that he was furious. Christine trembled. The thief stood dressing himself with an expression of complete apathy.

"Guards! Arrest that man!" Erik ordered them. He turned to Christine, who was trembling.

"I will let this incident slide for now," he informed her stiffly, "but if I find that you've lied to me or it happens again, you won't enjoy the consequences. I find it only fair to warn you that I have a serious temper and it's easy to trip. Understand?"

She nodded tearfully. As fast as his temper had flared, it was rapidly waning. His eyes were fading from the burning amber to a cool blue-green.

"Say something," someone hissed from the corner of their mouth.

Erik frowned uncomfortably. He placed a finger under her chin and gently guided her gaze upward. Just as he was about to ask if she was hurt, a crystal tear rolled down her cheek.

"I don't know why they hate me so much," Christine said shakily, "I suppose my stepmother's not giving up. Just…please, Erik…don't let them fool you…"

Erik scowled.

"That woman had best stay away from the castle," he snapped, "and your horrible sisters as well. Keith! Inform the guards at once not to allow anyone here that they don't recognize as well."

Christine slumped back on her pillows, exhausted and relieved.

"Go back to sleep, my dear. I will post guards outside your door for the rest of the night."

And he was gone. He flipped the light out and closed the door. Chase, Squishie, and Christine watched as everyone left the room. Christine stared at the door.

"Why did he just leave? I can't tell if he's angry at me or the situation," she lamented.

"Give him some time," Chase answered, "he's very much like us cats…he's used to fending for himself. He hasn't had time to learn to share his life yet."

Christine sighed and lay down. She hoped that the guards in the basement weren't easily fooled.


	10. Chapter 10

Regina made a face. She sighed and threw the dishrag down.

"It's bad enough that we lost a servant," she muttered, "but this is peasant work! I should be at parties grabbing eligible bachelor derrieres and tasting wine! How revolting this is!"

Amanda was sobbing as she stared at the glass plate in her hands.

"My hair is ruined by the humidity! How will I ever get a good societal reputation with frizzed hair?"

"Stop your complaining! I've had it much worse than you two!" Carlotta snarled from the doorway.

"How so, Mother?" Regina's tone was mocking.

"Do you know what that accursed director did to me today? He said that Prince Erik recommended someone else for the lead and that I be part of the chorus!"

Amanda dropped the plate. It shattered loudly against the stone tile floor. Both girls' mouths dropped open.

"Oh, no! The chorus? Poor Mother!"

Carlotta began to sniffle. She pulled out a gaudily colored handkerchief and began to dab dramatically at her eyes.

"Yes, me! A Diva! In the chorus! Of all the nerve! I've been rehearsing this for weeks and now I'll have to start all over…in the back…"

She slumped into a chair.

"My life is ruined. My reputation is ruined. All because that stupid chit can't keep her mouth shut! No doubt she has told Erik many, many lies about us! I can't even go to the castle to defend myself!"

Regina was the only one who didn't fall apart then. She glared, cold anger icing over her beautiful face. After all, people can be "ugly" for what's on their insides, too.

"We won't go to the castle again, then, Mother. If my intuition is correct, our dear sister will be the one playing lead. We can still get her at the opera house."

Carlotta blew her nose noisily.

"That's true," she said, a demented grin crossing her face, "and Prince Erik will never let her on a stage again if we play our cards right. He loves music more than he will ever love a woman. If we take that away, he'll chuck Christine out on her little behind faster than I can snap my fingers!"

While Carlotta and her two horrible daughters were plotting Christine's stage demise, Christine and Erik were riding side by side in the country. Caesar shook his dark head joyfully. Christine's own mount was a tame, middle-aged chestnut mare with neat white socks and a blaze down the front of her face.

"I don't know why they hate me so much," Christine was saying to Erik, "they've hated me all of my life. I wanted to be friends, but I suppose they won't let that happen."

"I wouldn't want to see them again," Erik muttered, "even if they are family. I suppose her attitude really is as terrible as her singing."

"Why has she been in so many operas?" Christine asked, "She must have had some talent."

"No, not really," Erik said, stopping Caesar by the river so he could get a drink. Christine's horse moved in beside him. For a while, it was quiet except for the music of the water and the horses lapping it up.

"She's bullied so many of my patrons and my directors that they all feel as though they have to give in. I didn't find out until recently that she was blackmailing the opera singers. After last night's little incident, I decided to have her investigated. The trouble is that no one has any proof except their word against hers."

"Oh, dear…" Christine murmured.

"You have nothing to fear from her," Erik told her, "I will be keeping a very close eye on this next production. Attendance has been slipping. I will not let it go unattended."

Christine was surprised at how abruptly his mood seemed to change. He had been so angry last night that she was afraid to come to breakfast. Once there, however, he was acting as if it hadn't happened. The King and Queen were also very relieved judging by their expressions.

"Thank you," she breathed.

"Oh, and one more thing. I have a job for you," Erik told her.

"A job?" she asked, puzzled.

"When we get back, you will need your own script. Today, you start your training for next month's production."

She stared.

"You will also need to be fitted for your costumes."

"But I'm only a chorus girl, or at least the director says I am. Why do I need more than one?"

"Because you will be playing the lead. You can't do all the scenes in a chorus girl outfit."

Christina felt her stomach drop.

"I appreciate the thought, Erik, but I hardly think that's fair. I haven't been to any classes at the university, I've barely been to school, and I've never had lessons. I'd be making a fool of us both."

His gaze darkened.

"Let me guess," he said coldly, "your stepmother told you that you couldn't sing, right?"

"Well…yes. She must have thought I was awful because she'd go on and on about how I shouldn't open my mouth when I was working. But I'd always slip up…it annoyed her so much that she beat me sometimes."

"Do you realize it was because she was jealous?"

Christine felt an odd tug in her stomach.

"I don't know…please, Erik, just put me back in the chorus."

"No."

"I can't do it-"

"ENOUGH!"

His shout was so loud that the horses jumped beneath them, spooked.

"I will not have you wasting your potential because of fear," he snapped, "especially not because of that horrible woman."

Christine felt as though she was shrinking inside her dress. She was accustomed to being yelled at, but this affected her more than her stepmother or her stepsisters. She felt her eyes stinging with tears.

Once they were back at the castle, she locked herself in her room. Squishie and Chase emerged from their napping spots in the sun on the balcony.

"What's wrong, Christine?" Squishie climbed into her lap as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"I don't know if I can do this," she answered, "Prince Erik expects a lot more from me than I thought was possible."

"Like what?" Chase joined them.

"He wants me to be the lead soprano in the next opera but I don't know what I'm doing at all. The only ones who have ever heard me sing are you two."

"Everyone gets scared sometimes," Chase told her, "but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try. Prince Erik had plans to rescue you…even if he didn't know it. Love was important to you. Now you must do something that's important for him."

"I didn't think of it like that," Christine admitted, "but my stepmother and stepsisters will be there, too. I don't want them to sabotage me."

"Then we'll be there, too."

Christine nodded.

"All right then…I'll try."

There was a knock at the door. A woman with short, dark curly hair and a plump figure holding a basket was there.

"Good afternoon, Miss Christine. I am Dawn Stevens, Head of the Costume Department. I came to measure you for your outfits."

She took the tape out and Christine stood next to the mirror so that Dawn could see all sides. Her slate-gray eyes sparkled as if she held some secret. Eventually, she started to laugh.

"What's funny?" Christine asked uneasily.

"I must say, you're a much better model than Carlotta is. That woman was forever asking me to adjust her corsets and hoops so that she'd have a smaller waist and a bigger butt. I tried to explain to her that there's only so much I can do because of the bone structure and that tight corsets are bad for her health…and her temper. I always have to lie and tell her she's smaller than she really is to keep her from suffocating herself."

Christine smiled.

"I know your pain well. I had to help her get dressed at home because she wanted to be laced so tightly that she couldn't manage on her own."

"Well, you've got a dancer's build, Christine. I don't see you needing anything special under here, so the measurements are very straight-forward. I will need you to come to the costume room later on for fittings, but that's a few days away at least."

"What opera will we be performing?" Christine asked.

"It's called _Il Muto,_ meaning 'the Mute'," Dawn said, "it is about a rich countess who becomes bored and runs away with the stable boy, who cannot speak. Everyone knows but the count."

"That's not very fair, is it? I mean…couldn't she have just told him?"

"I suppose not," Dawn answered, "from what I've read of the script, it was a forced marriage. But it's a comedy, so plenty of things go wrong."

Christine giggled. Though the character's actions went against her beliefs, it would be fun to play a frivolous countess after being a peasant all her life.

"What does my costume look like?" she asked.

"Well, you're as decorated as a royal wedding cake at first," Dawn said showing her the picture. Christine dissolved into giggle fits at seeing the costume. The countess's powdered wig added another half a person's height to her head. The dress was overly decadent with elaborate designs, ruffles, and colors. The other costumes for the opening scenes were just as gaudy and exaggerated. Yes, this would be fun!

"I look like I have a feather duster on my head!" Christine choked out through tears of laughter.

"Yes, you do. But you'll look more like yourself shortly afterward," Dawn explained when they had calmed down a little, "I have an ice blue gown designed for you that you'll look heavenly in. Here's the fabric swatch."

Christine held the small blue square of silky material in her hand. It was a pale blue, the color of cornflowers covered in frost.

"I can't wait to see it," she admitted.

"Well, you will soon. I intend to do that one first."

Dawn gathered up her things.

"I'd stay longer, but I must get to work," she said merrily, "see you later."

It was obvious that Dawn loved her job. Christine could only hope that she would love hers as much.


End file.
